Wet Wet Wet

It’s raining all around, every day, every night, I feel it in my fingers, I feel it in my toes. But thanks to the late Reg Presley, Love is all Around too. Yes, that song from Four Weddings and a Funeral made famous by Marty Pellow, will always remind me of the unfeasible love affair between Hugh Grant and Andie McDowell, the kind that can only happen in movies. It was penned by Reg, the lead singer of the sixties band, The Troggs. Not that I would remember that of course, I'm cheating, having just read his obituary. And, well, between Shrove Tuesday, Ash Wednesday and V-Day tomorrow it’s as good a theme as any to commemorate days we are supposed to be doing things, communing with pancakes, giving up cigarettes or making heartfelt gestures to loved ones.

I’m not a big fan of V-Day, not since an ex-boyfriend sent me flowers. A massive bouquet, truly massive. The florist, being so busy on that day, hired a courier service to deliver them. And being a courier, one had to sign for ones delivery. On signing, I noticed that the recipient before me and the one about to get a massive bouquet were the ex-wife and a platonic friend of said ex-boyfriend. I can’t put enough ex’s into that sentence! Though, being the greatest excuse maker of all time, I tried to see the kindness of what he had done to cheer up two other women.  
Even when I was married, V-Day came in for a lot of stick. In a short space of time between December and March, my ex-husband had Five gift/card/dinner occasions, xmas,V-day, our wedding anniversary, my birthday and mother's day. I don't know who suffered most! So, tomorrow, the radio will be unplugged, no word or news relating to the event will be recognised and I will go silently onto the fifteenth of February, without incident or insult. Indeed, I will concentrate on being a landlady.

In a brainwave to fill my spare room while awaiting the ideal tenant, I spent Sunday putting up a profile on Airbnb, the international informal bed and breakfast site. Just to get an idea of what to do, I looked at other Dublin offerings, they were mainly city centre trendy apartments with hosts that could show you around the city. In the back of my mind, I knew it was a waste of time, but without a global presence, who was ever going to know that there was a room out here in the burbs on offer? And, frankly, how hard can it be to put a few sausages, pudding, bacon and egg on a plate, I do it for nothing for the cost centres. I must have got a bit carried away with the description. I thought ‘sure what the hell, I’ll go one better and offer tours of the Wicklow mountains and Glendalough,’ I had four bookings for Paddy’s weekend within 24 hours.  Hmm, I wondered would my neighbours let me camp in their house, while I rented my own bedroom as well. And more bookings today, as well as four prospective lodgers coming to view. It’s just like buses. And it’s certainly going to take my mind off tomorrow.